by Lissa Manley
So completely endearing.
She shifted in her chair. Not what she’d been going for when she’d coerced him into dancing. She still didn’t know what had prompted her to do that. She hadn’t realized she even possessed a flirtatious side.
It wasn’t exactly comforting to know that Drew brought the coy side out in her. In fact, the notion downright terrified her. She preferred her never-flirt-because-it-could-lead-to-something-scary-that-I-won’t-like side.
After a sip of coffee, he nodded. “Yes, really. It enlightened me to the reality that I’m an uncoordinated dummy when it comes to dancing,” he said. “Give me a baseball or basketball to work with, and I’m fine. Even a volleyball. Or a golf ball. But my own two feet?” He shook his head, clearly chagrined. “Nope.”
“Oh, come on. It wasn’t that bad.”
“Yeah, right.” He snorted. “I looked like an idiot.”
“Trust me, you didn’t look dumb,” she said. More like cute and real and amazingly tolerant. A lot of guys would have taken off when faced with something they didn’t do well. Not Drew. “You were a good sport.” Always a good thing.
“Well, thanks.” Was that a blush Ally saw on his cheeks? “Somehow I just couldn’t say no to Heidi.”
“I noticed,” Ally said. Another check in the Things to Like about Drew column. “You’re really good with her.”
“She’s a good kid,” he replied. “And she’s had a rough go.”
“How so?”
“Before she and Carson moved here from Seattle, her little brother was killed, and then her mom flipped out and took off.”
Ally’s chest clutched. “Oh, no.” Looked as though Heidi had been to the same school of hard knocks that Ally had. Poor thing. “That’s a lot for a kid her age to deal with.”
Drew inclined his head to the side as he took another sip of coffee. “I’m afraid so, and yes, she’s had a lot to handle. Carson moved here to start over.”
“What happened to her brother?” Ally asked, feeling a kinship with Heidi that made her want to know more.
Drew didn’t say anything.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” Ally hurriedly added. “I didn’t mean to pry. It’s just that…”
“What?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “It’s just that it seems like Heidi and I have a lot of things in common, and I feel for her, that’s all.”
He fiddled with a paper napkin on the table. “Things in common?”
Valid question. “We’ve both suffered…losses.”
“Yes, I remember,” he said, looking right at her, holding her gaze. “You lost your parents.”
“Yes, I did.” She dragged her gaze away and looked at the plate in front of her. And she’d lost so much more. Her childhood. Her ability to trust. A sense of family. Roots. Things she’d have to fight to ever have again, losses that had irrevocably shaped her.
Ally got her thoughts back on track. “But if you don’t want to tell me what happened to Heidi’s brother, I understand.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m sure Carson won’t mind.” Drew nodded definitively. “And no question I trust you.”
A warm feeling spread through her, filling her up in a way she wasn’t used to. “That means a lot to me.” Maybe his trusting her meant too much? “Go on.”
“Heidi’s brother, CJ, was killed in a convenience store robbery. Carson was off duty and had taken CJ to the store for slushies.” Drew visibly swallowed. “Carson saw the whole thing.”
A sick chill spread through Ally, and she couldn’t find words right away. “Poor Heidi. And Carson,” Ally finally pushed out. “Suddenly my problems seem pretty paltry.”
“It does tend to put everything in perspective, doesn’t it?”
“No kidding.”
“So does that mean you’re willing to finish the conversation we started out on the patio the other night?”
Rats. “You haven’t forgotten that, huh?”
“Nope.” He quirked a brow. “Did you expect me to?”
“Not really. Hoping, maybe?”
“Why is that?”
“I’m not used to sharing.” Or depending on anyone. “It doesn’t come easily to me.”
“Me, neither,” he said. “More things in common, then.”
She nodded. “Yep.” Another connection. Was that good or bad? And, hey, why didn’t she know the answer to that question?
Silence. She felt his gaze on her, probing, encouraging, waiting. For her to decide. Telling her that sharing was up to her.
Unable to resist his pull, she looked at him, connected with those eyes of his, saw the softness and understanding shining in them. Something melted inside her. He’d said he trusted her. And she…she trusted him. He hadn’t given her any reason not to. Yet.
She swatted that thought aside, trying to break her pattern and have some confidence in Drew, needing to believe he was the wonderful man he seemed to be. “So, I believe you asked me how foster care was.”
“I think you’re right. You want to talk about it?”
Her eyes tingled and her throat tightened. Great. Why now? Was it the subject matter? Or was it the caring she saw in the man sitting across the table from her? Probably both.
She thought of Heidi. How strong she’d had to be. How she’d embraced her new life after the worst thing imaginable had happened. Surely Ally could show at least a smidgen of that strength. With God’s help, as always.
“Yes.” She gave him a wobbly smile. “Yes, I do want to talk about it.”
A quick spark of surprise flashed in his eyes. “I’ve got time now,” he said. Then his gaze flicked over the table scattered with used dishes, leftovers and silverware. “Want to talk while we do the dishes?”
She blinked. In the world she’d seen for most of her life, none of the men did much cleaning up. Especially unprompted. In fact, her mom hadn’t cleaned much, either, since she’d spent most of her time sleeping off her daily hangover while Ally’s dad had worked two jobs to make ends meet.
Drew lifted one big shoulder and started gathering plates. “Mom cooked. She shouldn’t have to clean up, too.”
What a considerate guy, so different from what she was used to. Refreshing. Yet…threatening, too.
She hesitated, sorely tempted to fall back on old habits that would protect her, keep her life on the narrow, safe path she’d mapped out for herself. But now that she’d spent time with the Sellers family, heard Heidi’s story and seen how happy Phoebe and Carson were, how in love, Ally was beginning to wonder if closing off had left her empty and isolated. Wanting…more?
That definitely wasn’t what she’d intended when she came to Moonlight Cove. But maybe it was time to do things differently. Well, some things, at least. What she could handle. After all, people talked all the time; having a personal conversation shouldn’t be that hard. She could always edit, if necessary.
“Now is fine,” she finally said. “Let’s hit the kitchen and clean up.” She rose and started picking up glassware, then hovered near the table while Drew headed into the kitchen with the plates in his hand.
Ally watched him go, all tall and broad-shouldered and so utterly compelling she couldn’t keep her eyes off him.
Lord, since I know You’re there, please help me cope if I let my guard down and Drew works his way into my heart only to leave me alone in the end.
*
Drew carried a stack of plates into the kitchen and set them on the counter, surprised that Ally had agreed to talk; she obviously kept a lot of stuff close to the vest, so he hadn’t been sure she’d want to finish their conversation. But he was glad she had.
Something about her tugged at him, made him want to pick beneath her surface and discover what had molded her into the fascinating woman she was today. She’d obviously gone through a lot and, good or bad, he wanted to know more.
He opened the dishwasher, smothering the irritating little warning voice sounding in his head telling him that he should
n’t be so interested in Ally. With his move to Atherton coming up, the last thing he wanted to do was form a new tie in Moonlight Cove, right? So he’d just talk and satisfy his curiosity and then he’d move on with the next chapter in his life, just as he’d always intended. Easy. Or at the very least doable.
Ally followed him, her hands full of drinking glasses. Did her face look flushed?
She put the glasses on the counter next to the sink. “I’ll clear the table if you want to load.”
“Sure,” he said, turning the faucet on. “Shouldn’t take long.”
They worked in companionable silence for a bit with nothing but the sound of the running water.
He took periodic peeks at Ally. Her lovely face, still slightly tinged in an appealing blush, remained otherwise inscrutable as she dried and put the dishes away.
They were supposed to talk while washing, but he found he was enjoying the silence so much he didn’t want to ask any questions just yet. Sometimes quiet was better than anything.
Outside the window the setting sun tinted the clouds orange and pink as day gave way to night, time marching on. The breeze blew the tangy scent of the ocean into the house as he washed the last pot and Ally wiped the counters. All at once it hit him how much he liked just spending time with her, doing everyday things. He hadn’t felt this relaxed in a very long time.
A rogue idea crashed into him. “How about we head to the beach and watch the sunset?”
Ally hung up the dish towel, then looked out the window. “Think we can make it in time?”
“If we hurry.”
She grinned. “Lead the way.”
They grabbed coats in the front closet—Ally wore one of Mom’s—and within a minute they were out the door.
He gazed west as they walked down the driveway at a fairly fast clip. “The sun is closer to setting than I thought.” Without thinking, he held his hand out. “You up for a little run?”
She gave a cute little snort as she put her small hand in his. “Are you?” she asked, her eyes glinting with an unmistakable challenge.
“Oh, definitely,” he replied, liking her cheekiness. “Think you can keep up?”
She squinted sideways at him. “You up for a little challenge?”
“I’m not called Mr. Challenge for nothing.”
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Well, then, you won’t have a problem taking me on, Mr. Challenge.”
He stopped and let go of her hand, then put his hands on his hips, raising his eyebrows in silent question.
“First one to the beach gets to choose what we talk about once the sun goes down.”
“You’re on,” he said, already sure of what he’d want to discuss.
“On three?”
“On three,” he said with a nod.
“Onetwothree!” she yelled, running the numbers together so fast he barely understood her. And then she took off toward the beach in a blur, her ponytail swaying.
He started running after her, figuring he’d just catch up and then pass her, no problem.
Except about five seconds in, he realized that she ran fast, in perfect form, her slim legs churning up the distance quite efficiently.
She looked back at him, her face glowing. “See ya there!” she said on a vibrant laugh that flitted away into the breeze coming in off the ocean.
He slammed his eyebrows together. Seemed he’d underestimated her, although he knew enough about her to realize that that move had been foolish. This woman never ceased to amaze him and, in that respect, she hadn’t disappointed.
Even so, his competitive side wasn’t about to let her show him up without a fight. He’d run some track in high school, so he knew how to work the pavement. Pretty much. With a deep, even breath, he focused on lengthening his stride so he could catch up with her before he left her in the dust…er, sand.
But somehow, he never managed to get any closer to her, even though he used his “kick” halfway to the beach. She ran with obvious purpose, her stride long and graceful, her shoulders straight and still. And she was fast. Amazingly fast.
Three-quarters of the way there, he knew he was toast. He couldn’t catch her and, if anything, she was lengthening the distance between them. While he was starting to get just a bit winded—he’d thought he was in better shape—she didn’t look tired at all.
She reached the beach and ran in a circle when she hit the sand, her arms in the air. In victory.
He ran up next to her. He stopped, determined not to let her see him breathe hard. He had his masculine pride. “You’re a runner, aren’t you?”
She gave him an impish smile. “I ran cross-country in high school. Second in State two years running.”
He shook his head. “You hustled me.”
“No, I did not,” she replied succinctly. “I was very clear that I was up to the challenge. At no time did I indicate that I didn’t know how to, um, I don’t know…run like the wind?”
He gave her a dubious look, though she made a good point. He certainly liked this teasing side of her.
“You just assumed I wasn’t fast ’cause I’m a girl,” she said, throwing him a mock offended look.
“I did not think that.” Not really…
“Whatever you say, Mr. Challenge.” She came closer and leaned in. “Because I won fair and square,” she whispered sotto voce.
Before he could reply, his gaze snagged on the orange ball of fire at her back. “Whoa, the sun is almost down.” He gestured west.
She looked where he’d pointed. “Wow,” she said, her face going slack before she turned back to him, her eyes glowing with what looked like incredible wonder through the wisps of hair the breeze blew around her face. “We caught a good one, didn’t we?”
Stepping closer, drawn to her in an inexplicable yet undeniable way, he stared deep into her gorgeous emerald-tinted gaze. She stared back, unblinking.
His breath caught, but he managed to reply, “We sure did.”
She smiled, a gentle upward tilt of her mouth that set his heart into overdrive, and then she swiveled around to look toward the ocean.
It felt so right then to take her hand in his, to touch her as they witnessed the sun sink into the horizon, on its way to the other side of the earth and back again. Golden rays slanted through holes in the clouds, shining down.
“It’s as if God is there, putting on a show just for us,” he said.
“You’re right,” she said.
He felt Ally move nearer, and it was the most natural thing in the world to let go of her hand and put his arm around her shoulder and pull her closer.
As he stood there and her sweet-smelling hair tickled his face, it hit him that he was linked with her, perhaps in more ways than one. And, right or wrong, wise or foolish, he couldn’t imagine anyone else he’d rather be with at this spectacular moment.
Chapter Nine
Ally simply could not believe she was standing on the beach with Drew’s arm around her, looking at the most beautiful sunset she’d ever seen. Though she had a feeling even the most humdrum sunset would have looked good to her right now.
She sighed, snuggling closer, determined to just live in the moment for now and forget about what was safe, for once. That would mean pulling away. Being in his arms felt so right, so perfect, there was no way she was going to walk. When had she ever stood on a beach in a man’s arms, feeling as if they were the only two people in the whole world? She would savor this moment, hold it all close and commit it to memory. It would be all she had of him when he left.
Drew didn’t say anything for a while, and she was content in their silence. A few seagulls soared overhead, riding the breeze before they flew away, becoming nothing but black shadows disappearing into the brilliant colors of the setting sun.
His arm tightened on her shoulder. “I can’t remember the last time I watched the sunset.”
“Me, neither.”
“Kinda sad, since I live here.”
“There won’t be
any sunsets like this in Atherton, will there?” she said.
She felt him stiffen, and she immediately regretted her words, though she knew they just reflected the truth—Drew was leaving town, soon. There was no getting around that fact.
“Nope,” he replied, his voice edged in sudden tension. “Guess that’s a trade-off I’ll have to make.”
“Guess so,” she said. “Life is all about trade-offs, isn’t it?”
He pulled back and looked at her, his eyes intent. “Sounds like you’ve had to make a lot of them.”
She glanced away, staring at another gull fighting the wind and staying in place, as if it had invisible tethers on his wings. “Yes, I have, but not by my own choice.”
“Foster care?”
All she could do was nod.
“Ally, look at me.”
She did as he asked, wishing all at once that she hadn’t, and that she could look at him forever. So confusing…
“I know you won the race, so you don’t have to have this discussion if you don’t want to.”
She smiled, happy he’d honor her wishes either way. But, then, that was the kind of guy he was—considerate, kind, thoughtful. “Thank you for that.” She chewed on her lip. “But…maybe I need to open up a bit.”
“I take it you’re not used to doing that?”
“No.” She let out a low sigh. “I learned early on to keep my thoughts and feelings to myself.”
“I get that,” he replied, gazing out at the ocean. He paused.
She waited, giving him all the time he needed to explain himself.
“I let myself lean on someone once, and it didn’t turn out well.”
Interest flared. “Someone you loved?”
“In college.” His mouth thinned. “We were engaged, and just about the time we were going to set a date, she dumped me for an Italian exchange student.”
Her chest tightened. “Oh, wow.” She shook her head. “That must have really hurt.”
He simply nodded. Clearly this was a sensitive subject for him.